Kyras' Longing
by Angelique Daemon
Summary: Kyras knows his companion is a horrible shrew of a woman... but in the middle of the night when there's no one awake, and the wine flows freely, he wishes it wasn't so.


Kyras Longing

She was beautiful. At moments like this he would even admit, to himself but **never** aloud, that she was more beautiful than his late wife. She all but glowed with health, and she was more lithe than one would expect from such a large frame... now if only she was not such an unadulterated, unrelenting **bitch**! When she was awake it was harder to remember that she was lovely, because she opened her mouth and shared her opinion... loudly. When she was asleep, like now, it was more apparent, and made Kyras' heart ache.

He was not up because he was sitting watch, per se. He was up because he had not imbibed enough alcohol to take him into a dreamless sleep. Varisiel had gone to bed some time ago, and Kanaan had followed not long after... though unlike the other woman, she had paused to give him scathing look as he opened a new wine skin. His wife likely would have given him much the same look had he drank as heavily in front of her. She would not, however have followed the look with the comment, "Don't drown yourself, finger-twiddler."

He supposed he should have been touched at what was a downright out-pouring of concern from the taciturn druid, but he was annoyed instead. What a bitch... A bitch with beautiful flashing eyes, and lush, thick hair...

Kyras grumbled at himself, tearing his eyes from Kanaan's sleeping form, and turning his attention to his wineskin. Why could he not be fascinated by the thief instead? Varisiel was a fine figure of an elven female; tall, slender and lithe, with beautiful pale hair, vibrantly colored eyes, and a quick smile... and yet his gaze kept wandering back to the druid. He supposed it was because of her race. Had his late wife been an elf, then perhaps he would have paid more attention to Varisiel, but she had not been, and therein lay his fascination.

Perhaps there was some self-flagellation in there too. While his wife had been... a **much** nicer woman, he could not help but think she too would have been as disapproving of his current behavior as Kanaan. She would have been motivated out of concern of course, rather than... well who knew what the hell motivated the druid? But in any event, she would not have approved of him drinking himself into a stupor every night, and falling into bed with every pretty thing he could talk into it.

On that note, maybe that was part of it too. He knew there was less than a snowball's chance in the seven hells that Kanaan would have **anything** to do with him in that situation... beyond perhaps mauling him. She was too suspicious to charm with words, and too willful to charm with magic... Not that he would try such a thing. She was too knowledgeable about spells, and far too smart for him to get away with trying it. Still, that did not stop him from noticing things... like the way the firelight caressed her cheek, or the silken pool of darkness her hair made on the bedroll...

It was entirely too easy for him to picture a blush darkening her cheeks... to imagine running his fingers through that inky waterfall, untwisting the plaits that kept the hair from her face. His fingers itched to trace the shell of an ear, and toy with one of the many piercings to see what response it would elicit. He could see in his minds eye her golden eyes dark with desire, and peeking at him through her thick lashes as she licked her lips. He could almost feel the press of her tusks against his lower lip, and the thought sent a jolt of desire through him, as he imagined kissing around them, swallowing her sounds of pleasure as he explored her mouth, while her hands gripped at him, her nails digging into his skin...

"Paint a picture."

The sudden growl startled Kyras out of his reverie, and he blinked dumbly at the golden eyes he had just been imagining... except now they were bright with **anger** rather the desire he had been daydreaming about. "What?" he croaked, his mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

Kanaan's eyes narrowed, "I said paint a picture," she growled, "because if you keep staring at me, I'll rip your damned eyes out, and make a new pair of earrings." Her piece said, she rolled onto her side, putting her back to him.

Kyras blinked again and then looked at the wineskin. Clearly it was time to go to bed... it seemed obvious that the only dreams he would be having tonight would be pleasant, if wildly fantastic, ones.


End file.
